


it's not gay if it's floating above a crater of radioactive lava

by vriskacircuit (oogenesis)



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Episode Related, M/M, Weird Biology, Weirdness, doesn't realize that's what's happening, i've tried and i just can't. tag it, is confused, lots of flowery metaphors and poetic bullshit, pouf gets off on feeding himself to meruem, specifically 128, there that's a tag, this is fucking weird. i don't know how to tag it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-21
Updated: 2015-05-21
Packaged: 2018-03-31 13:06:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3979150
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oogenesis/pseuds/vriskacircuit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He can feel himself slipping among the King's cells - now no more than particles of ash, but still the King's, still the body of the most supreme being ever to exist, and the thought that he is attaining such a degree of intimacy makes him shiver all over.</p>
            </blockquote>





	it's not gay if it's floating above a crater of radioactive lava

**Author's Note:**

> this is some gay garbage
> 
> (that i wrote late and night and haven't even proofread and am probably going to regret posting in the morning)
> 
> anyway

Shaiapouf's heart is beating so hard in his chest he feels he might pass out.

It's a simple matter to disassemble his clones into individual cells, to direct the resulting dust into the mouth of the charred body that was the King (and could be the King once more, if this works -) That part is easy enough.

It's when the first particles slip through the charcoal lips, into the burnt-out tissue, that Pouf feels himself inhale sharply.

_He is inside the King's body._

He can feel himself slipping among the King's cells - now no more than particles of ash, but still the King's, still the body of the most supreme being ever to exist, and the thought that he is attaining such a degree of intimacy makes him shiver all over. It is like walking through the ruins of a once-proud cathedral, and still being able to marvel at the strength and beauty visible in its remaining skeletal structure.

In each cell, a spark of life remains - weak, wavering, barely there at all. Pouf draws on his own Nen, sending it into the charcoal that was once proud bone and blood and flesh, and it rekindles the flame. The King's own life force flickers into brightness, grows, races throughout his entire body.

It's a real light. Pouf draws his focus out of the microcosm long enough to see that the corpse is glowing with renewed life, that the King's eyes are opening - 

the eyes that have always held the fierce beauty of all the world's command and power, that make Pouf and the rest of the Royal Guard shiver with a deep thrill whenever they light on him -

they are opening. The King is alive and healing and Pouf is the one who did this. His heart leaps into his throat. He is so happy he can barely speak.

He remembers, belatedly, to keep the particles coming, flowing into the King's mouth. The inside of the King's body is now an inferno, clawing its way back towards life with a ferocious strength that leaves Pouf in awe. The cathedral is rebuilding itself around him, and its grandeur and might are too dazzling for the eye to bear -

and Pouf is a part of this. He is seeping into every fiber of the King's being, giving it his life, being engulfed. Their flesh and sinew and blood are joining together, and Pouf feels the unimaginable power of the king within himself. He is becoming one with that which he fears and loves the most, and the sensation is one of purest bliss.

But it is trespassing - he is not worthy to be here - one so low as him should not sully the King's body

 _but the alternative_

He realizes that his core body, outside the King's, is shaking. His throat is trying to make noises, but nothing comes out. His eyes are blurry with tears of unspeakable. Something has taken a hold of him, is singing through his veins in a fierce and mighty rush.

There is sound coming from the King's mouth. (His voice! His voice has returned - and Pouf can feel it vibrate through the King's body as if it were his own, because in a sense it is, they are in perfect union)

"this is the most delicious thing I have ever tasted."

He calls it paradise. He calls it ambrosia. He wants more.

It takes Pouf a moment to comprehend the words, and when he does, his mind softly explodes. The King, who is so high above all other beings that is it an honor merely not to be killed by him, to whom Pouf must be only vermin to do his bidding, has _praised_ him.

The joy that courses through him is so great he feels he might burst, might simply die. _the king asked for more_ and so he gives him more, pouring his own self and his own life into him, feeling his own existence merge with the King's. Something is taking over him, pushing his voice out of his mouth and building to a gasping fever pitch. It throbs thick and warm throughout what remains of his core body, stirring up a sensation as intoxicating as it is unfamiliar - which only increases, as the King is reborn in flame with Pouf at the center.

and the knowledge that the King _wants_ this - the King is letting him in, has deemed him worthy of joining their bodies together, of allowing him this honor, this pleasure - only builds the ecstasy. further and further, taking him higher and higher -

and in one single blinding moment, Pouf is _gone_. He can't put a name to what happens - a sensation of purest joy that rips through him with all the striking force of the King himself, shatters all coherent thought and leaves only a torrent of bliss, so intense that he is for a moment certain he might die.

And then it's over.

Pouf comes back to himself, back to the crater of lava and Youpi's tear-stained face and the quiet sizzling of the King's body as it comes back to life. Miles away, his clones have come to a standstill in mid-flight, their vision unfocused, their breath and heartbeat coming just as fast and hard as his.

He refocuses. Pulls himself together, sets his clones back in motion. 

The sheer exhilaration from before has faded into a dreamy, wondrous contentment. A haze of bliss still swims at the edge of his consciousness, a remnant from the tidal wave that engulfed him but a moment earlier. And what had that been, really? There's a hormonal element to it; he can feel it flowing through his veins. An indication that this is not just his own love for the King at work, but something biological, something his body is doing. He can't think what it is.

But no matter. Youpi is preparing to give the King his own essence, and Shaiapouf pushes all the meandering thoughts out of his head. His own reactions are irrelevant right now. His job, as it has always been and always will be, is to focus on the King.

**Author's Note:**

> and then they died of radiation poisoning the end
> 
> anyway please leave a comment. even if it's just to agree with my assessment that yes this is indeed gay garbage. i like feedback and i can tell you that if you leave a comment i will automatically love and appreciate you even though this fic is Sin and Shame
> 
> i'm going to regret this in the morning won't i


End file.
